WTF? Seriously, what the fucking fuck?   3 times I’ve done this race, over 5 years, 2 bikes, 2 kids, 2 houses, 2 jobs…and i still get the same fucking time of 5:04?!?!?!

2006 was a baseline.

2007 was the same time, but a longer course.   fine, i was ok with that.

2010 I climbed nearly everything, shredded the DHs and had lycra-wearing XC weenies jumping off trail at my approach, and I got passed on everything, absolutely everything else.   Because I’m a fat sack of crap.

I’ve got legitimate reasons.   The baby, the move. But numbers don’t lie.   Which is why i like them, you can’t hide from them. I’m not raking myself over the coals, but the negative reinforcement is oddly soothing. An athlete needs challenges, and i don’t want to ever stop thinking of myself as an athlete.   Remaining strong is a good challenge, and fortunately everything in the McDs requires blunt force climbing. Riding G on the 2-bike or the girls in the trailer is work.   I’m happy that i could rely on my gristle for the uphills, and that there is still improvement to be enjoyed rockin the descents.   That’s my story and i’m sticking to it.

Once again up at 4, and once again thanks to Cat for all she does for epicrides.com, and for being out there in the morning. I enjoyed the first of many trips to the port-o-let, which over the course of a long day living out of your car makes it an optimal place to wash, change, smoke, and nap.   I opted for warmers, base layer, and toasty socks. The forecast was 45 at race time…maybe so, but with still air and sunshine and an hour climb to start, it felt warmer.

there was some of this and that – Bob, me, Doug & Eric

From nearly the first moment, I was hurting, much like the Squealer a few weeks ago. Which was good,   i was ready to pain-manage for about the next 5 hrs and confident I could interpret the signals my body was sending. It sucked, cause I knew I’d be hurting for the next 5 hrs. The bitch about races is that to do well, no matter your goal, you push yourself right up until you are hurting the whole time. As I hit the short climb around mile 2 down into Skull Valley, i seriously wondered why the fuck I was doing this to myself, and only knowing I was gonna hang around til 5:30 when the Peacemakers took the stage kept me from turning back.

The pack pulled away instantly, and seemed to go on forever, which based on past years attendance made me pretty sure i was last.   An interesting analysis: in 2006, my 05:03:02.87 put me 40 out of 108.   In ’07 my 05:03:59.04 put me 45 out of 113.   yesterday, my 05:04:23.26 put me 126 out of 202.   The uphills were long, and by long i mean i rode em all and i was slow.   The first road climb was a , the following 30 min of singletrack i couldn’t help but notice i got everything but for the pile-ups in front of me.   I know i pushed in 07, and i kept riding on all the way til the big descent around mile 10, thinking i was way stronger but wondering why i passed no one climbing?   That changed on the descent.   Not a lot of people wooooooohooooooooooooo! during races, but i caught so much air and it pushed me so fast into the tacky trails with snow lingering in some of the shady corners.   Conditions slayed inhibitions.   I didn’t have time to look at the gps, but knew i was smoking.   Nobody passed me on a descent all day, but every single person i slid by in a corner at 20mph sailed right by me on the climb up to the Skull Valley split.   I’m a fat sack of crap.

I’m not going to get into any details about Skull Valley.   I got some heed, a banana, took a crap, and put on my music in 4 very efficient minutes at the bottom aid station.   Then I slid into my pain cave and stayed there for the next 1:15 til the top.   I rode everything but for 1 minute at mile 9 where i needed to stretch out, and had the gps off but for a peek roughly every 12 minutes.   I saw my buddy LiteAndFast Dave, but was so deep in the pain cave i pretty well blew him off — there are no friends in the pain cave. In much the same brutish manner i reached the top, and then more blissful descents where it was now a matter of vengeance to pick off anyone who looked fit.

Great lunch with Bob, Doug, Eric and their posses, then i took a nap right about here

i walked down to Raven Cafe to pick up a couple togo micros – perennial favorite Anderson Valley Oatmeal Stout, and Dogfish Head Raison d’Etre. The Peacemakers were halfway through Mexico when i walked back up the street.   What a great show they put on, connecting with the crowd, working together, going with the flow of the day.

Roger sharing some tequilla before Mekong.   Appropriate, my reflection on this slow but satisfying day best summed up as “here’s to life.”